Red and White
by Morgstang
Summary: After Kenshin leaves the final battle of Toba-Fushimi, he begins his new journey to becoming a wanderer. Quickly he learns that you can never truly leave your past behind you. Psychological, will get a bit gory, not for the lighthearted.
1. Escape

"Too slow!"

Kenshin stepped backwards as fast as he could, feeling the tip of his attacker's sword barely graze across his stomach. Everything was getting hazy and his head was spinning. He was weak from having been on the run for nearly two days now; he hadn't had any food or water since the morning of the last battle he fought in. The Battle of Toba-Fushimi.

After that he left without notice and had been running ever since.

Only a fool would believe they could walk out of there and not be chased. Kenshin had known that within a day of people noticing his absence, some wouldn't take too kindly to his abandonment. So far they hadn't disappointed him, an assassin already trying to take his life.

Before he could react, his assailant shoved him with a forearm, slamming him back and pinning him to a tree. The force knocked the wind out of Kenshin's lungs and made him heave.

Katsura Kogoro, Kenshin's previous master, had known that Kenshin would withdraw his sword from the war once it had come to an end. The Shogunate were defeated, and although the Shogun was trying to regain power back from the Imperialists, it was a feeble attempt. Kenshin knew that in this last battle, they would be quickly destroyed without his help. Their numbers were dwindling and Kenshin wasn't going to be around for the end.

Still, even though Katsura was aware and accepted the fact that Kenshin would leave, Kenshin knew that there would be people out for his blood. A lot of the Imperialists were very prideful, and some even may try and kill him for treason.

Such as this man here.

"So, thought you could run away, Battousai? Has the war finally got to your head?!"

Kenshin felt the back of the man's free hand connect with his face, forcing his head to whip to the side.

This man was an assassin, undoubtedly sent by someone high in status. They wouldn't have dared to send anyone if they hadn't known Kenshin was on his last legs. He'd allowed himself to be seen too much in the last town he'd passed by, and that may have been the mistake that sealed his fate. People talk, and once word reached certain Imperialists about how drained and weak the famous Hitokiri Battousai was looking, they would be sending people.

But hunger had still drawn him to risk going into the town. Unsurprisingly, everyone refused him, turning down his money and forcing him to leave, dehydrated and starving.

Just how fast the word had spread surprised Kenshin.

Almost giving in to the dark spots that were appearing in his vision, giving in to blacking out, just to escape the pain, Kenshin's instincts screamed at him, forcing his body to move. Even despite the pain and the growing darkness over his sight, he moved.

Kicking out forcefully, Kenshin managed to make the man back up a bit and relinquish some of his hold on him. Throwing out his right fist, the Battousai struck the man in the throat, feeling the esophagus collapse under his knuckles. Spit flecked onto Kenshin's sleeve, the man's eyes rolled up and he fell over, landing on his back. He made strange choking noises, tears streaming down his face as he tried sucking in air like a fish out of water, mouth gaping wide.

Slowly, Kenshin went over to his sword, the sakabatou still lying in the snow where he had dropped it before, when the man had deflected one of Kenshin's earlier attacks and forced him to let go of it.

Everyone always made the same mistake fighting him. They always took their time, relishing in the feeling of power that they got from striking Kenshin down. If they _only_ cared about killing him, not the pride, not the feeling of dominance, Kenshin might have met his end sooner. But they were far too greedy in their conquest for power. Killing the legendary Battousai, would bring someone much glory. The seemingly unbeatable demon from hell, the devil himself, would bring any swordsmen great praise and a high position in power. Shogunate or Imperialist.

Picking up the sword, he glanced back over his shoulder at the man, still clutching his throat.

_Should I...kill him?_

If he didn't the man would undoubtedly continue his pursuit as soon as he recovered from the throat shot. Kenshin was weakening rapidly, any prestigious swordsman could sense the weakness in the way he held himself.

But he couldn't kill him.

_I will uphold my promise... _

Sliding the sakabatou back into its iron sheath hanging from his obi, he walked off, continuing in the opposite direction of the battle field he left. The sun was setting and night would blanket the forest, and Kenshin would be even more vulnerable.

A slight crunch of snow behind him made him crouch to the ground. Spinning around onto his knee he threw up his sword and blocked the man's downward katana strike. By having a right hand holding his sword's handle and the other grabbing the blade near the tip he could hold off the opposing sword. Since he wasn't used to the sakabatou, Kenshin forgot to flip the blade so it was facing away from him. Now it cut into his palm as he held off his opponent.

Kenshin's shoulders jerked backwards and he attempted to push the man back, but he didn't have any more strength. It was almost completely gone.

Before Kenshin could react, the man pulled his sword back and went for a horizontal slice, Kenshin watched the movement of the sword's path, but couldn't make his body block the attack in time. He was becoming disoriented. The sword bit into his arm and he clenched his teeth as the sword's force threw him off balance and knocked him to the ground, the snow absorbing most of the impact.

Rolling onto his back he brought up the sakabatou again before the assassin's katana could cut into him again. The man had the advantage, standing above him, using all of his body's strength. While Kenshin could only use what little energy his arms had left.

This struggle was coming to its end rapidly and who was going to lose was evident. Kenshin merely had a reverse blade sword, practically _useless_ in a fight for your life. He might have been able to wound the man enough to escape or make him lose his will to fight him anymore, but he was much too weak from so long without any rest or anything to eat.

In his head he was thinking every possible way out of this, _something_, the will to fight to survive was too strong to ignore.

"To think you've been reduced to _this_. Killed like a dog in the backwoods of a village," The man sneered, obviously enjoying Kenshin's struggle, as he leaned in closer he pushed Kenshin's sakabatou blade to his throat, hot breath shocking Kenshin's chilled face as the man laughed. The blade was starting to cut into the skin of Kenshin's neck and his mind faltered for a moment.

_He was going to die._

Something snapped inside of him and he looked at the man's right hip, where a small dagger was attached to his belt. It was going to be a big risk and he might die either way, but he _had_ to do this. Battousai wasn't going to let Kenshin die without a fight.

Lashing out, Kenshin released his hold on the blade of his sword and grabbed for the dagger. The tip of his sakabatou was driven into the ground, no longer being held up. It's tip sunk into the snow and earth next to Kenshin's head and the blade cut further into his throat as the man was still forcing his katana down onto Kenshin's blade.

That second of hesitation was all he needed. The man didn't expect for Kenshin to release his own sword and further injuring himself. And that was his mistake.

Ripping the dagger out of its sheath with his left hand, Kenshin quickly jabbed it into the man's eye, driving it in until it was buried up to the hilt. The eye gave away easily under his attack and it made a strange noise as the man screamed. The moment Kenshin released the handle of the dagger, the man became silent and limp, crumpling onto Kenshin. The assassin's head landed on his chest and blood dripped onto him and a sickness started creeping into his stomach.

Throwing his sword somewhere to his right, Kenshin shoved the man off of him with what seemed like a gargantuan effort. The body flopped beside him, completely limp with lack of life. Blood was quickly staining the snow and spreading around the man's head.

The sickness grew.

Rolling onto his stomach, Kenshin started crawling away, not knowing he had left the sakabatou behind.

There was a strange rasping noise and Kenshin thought for a moment it was the man behind him and realized it was coming from his own mouth. His lungs ached as he was near hyperventilation, trying to catch his breath. He didn't know where he was crawling but his vision was going. Ab curious loud ringing noise buzzed in his ears and the black spots were so big at this point he couldn't see.

Soon his head collided with something and he reached up, feeling the rough bark of a tree. He gripped it, trying to pull himself up, but his legs wouldn't obey. They quaked under his weight and he slipped forward, his face hitting the bark as it scratched up his cheek. He collapsed to the ground, into a pile of snow. He kept hold of the tree with his right hand, his head was spinning and he couldn't tell which way was up. This tree was the only thing that was keeping him anchored and he couldn't let go, he wouldn't let go.

Closing his eyes for a moment he willed his body to stop. Stop his head from spinning and his stomach from heaving with pain and hunger.

When he opened his eyes again he realized his hand had dropped from the tree and was resting on its roots, a dull light was trickling through the trees. Snow had fallen and coated his hair and back.

Putting his hands under him he forced himself up to sit back.

_He had slept for hours._

Kenshin looked over at the man he had slain, it felt like moments ago, but somehow he had slept for the remainder of the night.

Feeling cold and sore, he cringed as he searched for his sakabatou. After a moment of feeling around with his feet he hit it with his right foot and it appeared, as though from the snow itself. Bending down he picked it up from the ground and he sheathed it, not bothering with his blood that had dried on its blade.

He could feel that his legs were still shaking, but not as badly as before. He had to keep moving. Somehow he had survived the night. He had been lucky enough to be wearing thick clothing and the winter had been mellow this year.

If an assassin had found him while he was asleep, collapsed on the ground like that, they wouldn't have spared his life. No matter what was honorable, they'd have killed him on the spot.

There's no such thing as honor when fighting a demon. Kill it while it lays unconscious and no one would question you.

Trying to swallow and ease his dry throat, he continued to walk, thinking of what he should do. Somehow he had to lie low for a while. Find a rural village that wasn't so harsh when it came to judging newcomers.

In what seemed like forever, Kenshin came upon a creek. His throat seemed to burn as he dropped to his hands and knees and drove his face in the water, drinking straight from the flowing source. The icy cold water stung his lips and face but he kept drinking and drinking, until he was sure his stomach would burst.

But he couldn't stop, he just couldn't. He didn't care about the consequences, he didn't care if he got sick, the water felt so good soothing the burning in his throat and ridding the dryness in his mouth. Even when it hit his stomach he felt the hot, sick feeling slowly dissipate, being drowned in the fresh, sweet, ice water.

Forcing himself to pull away from the water, he sat back gasping for breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The skin throat smarted and he winced, touching his fingers to it. There was the rough, sticky feeling of dried blood and a wet spot where it had reopened and was bleeding slightly.

His head was throbbing and despite having a stomach full of water, hunger still clawed at him. Kenshin had pulled the water trick on himself too many times for his stomach to fall for it again. It knew there was no food, and it was going to keep demanding until he got it.

Looking down at his clothing, he saw the blood from the assassin, still stuck to his chest and the front of his clothing. His own blood had dripped down and mixed with that man's.

Grabbing his sheathed sword, he pulled it from his obi and laid it among the moss growing near the creek. The snow had seemed to melt quite a bit around this creek and left areas of dried grass and earthy moss. Trees and bamboo grew closely to the river and it was well sheltered, sun barely filtering through the leaves and casting its glaring rays onto the creek.

Removing his haori, kimono, and kosode Kenshin pulled his wallet from the kimono sleeve and set it on the ground next to him. He then dipped his kimono into the water, and started rubbing the blood out. He watched the blood swirl from the blue kimono, disappearing down the stream.

Doing this with each article of clothing, he looked a little sadly at each hole in each of their left shoulders, from where that man cut him. He lost his small bag earlier when that man attacked him, which had what little belongings he had left. He didn't dare go back though, it was too close to a town and out in the open.

By now it would be buried by the snow anyways, so he was just going to have to make do until he figured out what he was going to do.

He shivered slightly but the air wasn't too cold, the sun was quickly warming the forest as it rose up.

Pulling his kosode out of the water he wrung it out and glanced around for a suitable rock to lay them all on to dry. There weren't any boulders, so he settled on laying them on the rocky shore of the creek, hoping they dried soon. They were beyond ruined, but he had no choice. He just hoped they didn't freeze before the sun could dry them.

After washing his body of the blood and gently cleaning his throat and shoulder wounds with creek water, he tried thinking of what to do for bandages. He glanced down at his kosode and sighed in resignation. He would have to cut thick strips from it if he was going to protect his wounds from infections.

It didn't take him very long, but he soon had his throat and shoulder wrapped with makeshift bandages from his kosode, crudely cut by the blade of his sakabatou.

His body ached for sleep, but he couldn't. He didn't dare sleep. Anyone could sneak up on him in this weakened state and easily finish him off. How was he meant to help people when he couldn't even help himself?

Reaching up, he pulled his hair tie loose, hissing at the pain prickling across his scalp as he realized he also had a cut on the back of his head. It must have been from being slammed against that tree. His deep red hair was caked with blood at the back of his head and down his neck. It hurt to even move his hair now that he was aware of the wound.

Looking at the bloody blue tie in his hand he felt a twinge of guilt. It had only been a few days and he already broke his vow.

Looking at the creek uncertainly and then around at his surroundings, he wondered if he could risk washing it out. Would anyone really bother with this small creek? He had to have put quite some distance between him and the body of that assassin. Yet Kenshin knew he most likely left a path leading here, the snow unforgivingly leaving his tracks, blood splattered on the snow too. He'd be tracked down like wounded prey.

Listening for a moment as he stared at the creek, he could only hear the soft wind blow through the tops of the trees and birds singing over the gurgling of the water.  
Tucking his tie into the waist of his obi he grabbed his hair in a fist he leaned forward, letting the top of his head dip into the chilly water. Letting go of his hair he slowly started picking up water with a cupped hand and pouring it on the head cut, lightly rubbing the hair sticking to the wound. Each little pull of hair made his stomach lurch as a pain shot across his skull. Head wounds were particularly sensitive and always bled the most, so he wasn't too concerned with the amount of blood staining the water a copper color before it was whisked away further downstream.

Leaning back, he pulled the tie back from his obi and quickly rinsed it of the blood. He attempted tying his hair back up into its usual style, but his scalp was stinging with the movement of his hair, so he tied it lower, at the nape of his neck. Something he didn't do often.

Perhaps he should get it cut off, his hair. Then people would be less inclined to recognize him.

Lifting his hand he touched his fingertips to the scar on his left cheek. It had healed over the past couple years, but it refused to close, leaving two gaping scars that crossed into an X shape... This is what the people knew him by the most. It's what stuck out in the battle field while he slayed dozens of men. There wasn't any good way of hiding it. Maybe a bandage would work, he was bound to come upon at village or town that would be willing to accept his money, Battousai or not. The last village was hardly accommodating, and Kenshin wasn't the type to threaten.

He bore this scar as a tribute to those he had killed, to her, to the lives he'd torn apart. With his actions he didn't realize how many people he hurt, with the exception of the ones who fell at his sword. He hurt those families, the children, the wives, the friends. Taking life for granted, he didn't realize how much pain he put people through, not until he felt the pain for himself. First hand. The feeling of losing a loved one. Someone he loved so dearly that it ached now that she was gone.

Some nights he couldn't sleep with the vivid memory of bright red contrasting against the pure white. He would have nightmares, but the only thing he could remember were those two colors.

Red and white.

Red staining pure white, standing out like a glaring light.

Feeling his stomach heave, Kenshin moved away from the water and was sick on the rocks piled near the creek's small shore. Unable to bring anything up but water and stomach juices, Kenshin's eyes watered as the acid stung the inside of his throat.

Once he knew he was finished, he picked up his sakabatou and moved to the other side of the spot where his clothes were drying. There was moss growing on the bank and he sat down in front of a tree, looking over at his clothing. The sun was doing a good job drying them, at least in that he had some luck.

Situating himself so he was sitting cross legged, Kenshin rested his sakabatou on his left shoulder, letting the tip of its sheath support itself on the ground in the space between his legs. Leaning back, he rested against the tree, trying to get some energy back while his clothing dried.

His stomach wouldn't stop growling and aching, but he found some sort of peace sitting against a tree near the flowing creek. His zori were starting to rip and his clothing was stained with blood and dirt. His white hakama were never going to be the same again, but he had some ways of removing blood stains yet didn't have anything that was required. If he was going to go into the next town or village, he had to not be covered in blood.

Gently, he rested his head against the tree, ignoring the slight twinge from his cut. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the smell of the forest and the creek envelop him.

Kenshin wasn't quite sure of himself right now. Five years being a hitokiri, he was pretty much taken care of by his Master. He never had to do anything but kill. Food was paid for, rooms at inns were paid for, he never had many clothes but he stopped growing when he was sixteen, he had no need for new ones, yet he was still given money for them.

The women that worked at the inns they stayed at took quite good care of the men of the Ishin Shishi. From laundry, to food, and other things that Kenshin didn't want any part of. He felt bad for those women with no where else to go. Battousai had everyone convinced he was a detached, emotionless killer that didn't _care_ about anything at all. That's what had those other men so frightened of him. He didn't care about anything. Including death.

But it was always quite the opposite. Kenshin was always left to his own ponderings. Always thinking of the past and the future and how much impact the new government would have on the country. He just wanted peace. No more fighting. Kenshin was losing his way and didn't know quite what was worth fighting for anymore. It all seemed senseless. Insanity. All of it. There would be no true peace in this world because man was always susceptible to becoming mad with power and greed and they continued the fight. Never ending.

_She_ was the one who saved him. He found his way again he owed everything to her. While he was lost in the despair of the maddening world, she taught him the value of life and reminded him of what brought him to becoming a fighter in the first place.

Now, for her, he would help the defenseless people. In any way that he could. He would hone his skills with the sakabatou and heal, to be ready for any more assassins or challengers. He couldn't kill again. His instincts forced him to take that man's life, but he wouldn't make that mistake again. There _had_ to be another way.

Jolting, Kenshin realized he was beginning to doze. He stood up quickly, glancing around the area for any signs of danger as he slid his sheathed sword back into the hold of his obi.

Going over to his clothes he picked them up and shook them out, pleased with how quickly they dried...He hadn't been dozing for too long, had he?

Slipping the kosode back on he realized it was now shorter due to him using it as bandages and it made it harder to tuck back into his hakama and obi. After he slipped his thick kimono back on and tucked that too, he picked up his wallet and placed it back into his inner sleeve for safe keeping.

Setting off, Kenshin went back to the path he was following before that assassin attacked him. There had to be a village not too far off that he could get food and hopefully some shelter.


	2. The Girl and the Monk

It had been nearly two hours since Kenshin started walking. He had come upon mushrooms and was tempted to eat them, but he tried that stunt a long time ago as a child, when he was still under apprenticeship of his Master Hiko Seijuro. It was a lesson that would stick for many, many years. No matter how hungry he was.

The next village should be close by, he didn't expect it take this long, but he was walking slowly, trying to conserve energy.

Kenshin knew that the next village he came to he was going to have to stay for a few days at least. Just enough to recoup. It leaves him open to an attack but if Kenshin continued on the way he was he wouldn't survive a month. Weakness would consume him and he would be an easy opponent.

So his strategy called for some risks.

They wouldn't chase him for too long. A few months maybe, and once he sent all of them back to their masters with wounds that left them unable to fight ever again, they would see that he wasn't one to be taken so lightly. Then, hopefully, Kenshin could live in this new era as a rurouni, not a target.

He knew that he would, in a way, be a target. They wouldn't truly ever give up hope convincing Kenshin back. Once everything settled down after the pathetic battle of Tobafushimi and warriors became officers of the government, they would attempt to send for Kenshin. There would be people out for his title of the strongest of the imperialists and there would be others out to recruit him once again, to use as a pawn.

Kenshin stopped walking, his breath swirling around in a fog as he stared towards the right side of the trail he was on. Someone was watching him.

Placing his hand on the hilt of his katana, he prepared his stance, facing towards a cluster of bushes. Eyes. He could feel them watching him. The hair stood on end on his arms and the back of his neck prickled.

"Stop your hiding and come face me!" He shouted, his voice sounded strange from his throat being sore. The cloud from his breath drifted from him, and he took a step towards the bushes. Were they going to make him attack first?

"If you don't come I will!"

The bush rustled again and a dark figure emerged. Lifting his sword he was prepared to make the first attack, not waiting to gauge his opponent.

"I'm sorry!"

Stopping himself mid-swing Kenshin's eyes widened, sword held ready to strike. There was no dark assassin. That voice didn't even belong to a man.

_It was a little girl._

Tears were streaming down her face as Kenshin lowered his sword, unable to look away from her. She must have been just nine or ten years old.

"I'm sorry I followed you!" She sobbed, her small hands covering her face as she avoided Kenshin's stare.

"I could've hurt you very badly." He said, sliding his weapon back into its sheath. "Why were you following me? What's your purpose? You're too young to be out in the forest alone."

Indeed it was too dangerous. The sun was starting to set and who knew how many bandits wandered the forest so close to this web of villages.

She didn't answer him, just kept crying. Kenshin tried to feel irritated, but it wouldn't come. All he could feel was guilt. Why was she crying? Were her parents killed?

"I am sorry for raising my sword against you. I thought you were someone else," Kenshin tried, not knowing how to handle this situation. He wanted to help people, yet he never had any interaction with children before. Not since he was very young, when his brothers were still alive.

Crouching down so he could look eye to eye with her, he asked, "Are you hurt?"

Sniffing she shook her head, "No, but I got lost! I don't know where everyone went, and then I saw you and I wanted to ask for help but I was too scared!"

It all came out in a rush and Kenshin took a moment to interpret the babble.

"Are you from a caravan? Was your family moving to another village?"

"Yeah," her tears subsided, but her shoulders still quaked, "We were moving to grandpa's farm. But I was playing and then everyone was gone!"

Furrowing his brow, Kenshin stood back up straight, thinking it through. From what it sounded like the girl must have run off while the caravan was moving and her family lost sight of her. That happened often when small children were being moved in a caravan.

"What is your name?"

" Aya," She sniffed, rubbing away the tears.

"Well, Aya, we'll find your family's farm, okay?"

Nodding she gave him a small, watery smile, "Okay."

As they started walking down the path, Aya stayed close to his side.

"What's your name?" She asked, looking up at him with bright brown eyes. Now that she was out of the shadows of the woods and on the sun lit path he could see her more clearly.

"...Kenshin."

Looking up at the path, Kenshin tried falling back into his thoughts.

"Why do you have a sword?"

He didn't look back down at her.

"It is to protect myself and others."

"What happened to your face?"

"An accident-"

"Where are your Mommy and Daddy?"

Stopping on the path, Kenshin looked down at the little girl.

"Aya, we're not very safe out here. I need you to stay quiet, okay?"

Her eyes widened and she nodded, pursing her mouth closed. It was an almost comical look and Kenshin caught himself smiling slightly as they started walking again. He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled.

Kenshin felt a tug on his pant leg and he looked over at Aya again, noticing she was even closer to his side, gripping the pant leg of his hakama.

"There's no need to be afraid, Aya. Nothing will happen to you with me here."

Aya didn't answer and Kenshin let her be. They walked for quite some time and the sun had set, everything was becoming darker as night fell.

Kenshin had planned on walking until he reached the village, but Aya had stumbled several times and she looked exhausted. Although she hid it well, he could feel her shivering beside her.

Feeling guilty for not noticing it before, Kenshin pulled his haori off, leaving him in just his kimono and kosode and handed it to Aya.

"You must be freezing, why aren't you wearing better clothes?"

"Today was really warm...I'm sorry."

Softening his tone a bit, he shook his head, "Don't apologize."

She wrapped Kenshin's haori around her shoulders and it hung around her, falling to the ground. Picking up the extra length she hugged it to herself to prevent dragging.

"I think I'm getting a cold." She mumbled, looking a little hazy eyed as she sniffed. Looking down the path, Kenshin seeing if he could spot any lamps indicating a village, but his vision was too blurry.

Kneeling on the ground again, he motioned towards his back, "Here, I'll carry you."

After she climbed onto his back and got his haori wrapped around her again, he stood and started walking, supporting her legs with his arms. They had no where to stay and rest and he didn't want her using too much of her energy if she was getting sick. Nonetheless this could prove to be dangerous. With both his arms occupied with holding the girl up on his back, he was wide open to an attack.

As he walked he kept on the look out for any movement in the trees. Aya had her head resting on his shoulder and it sounded as though she were sleeping. Even though she was light, with Kenshin's injuries and lack of food, she became heavier with each minute.

Feeling a sweat build up he continued despite the struggle. Where was the village? It couldn't be another day away possibly?

'_No...Not now.'_

Kenshin's vision was swirling, everything was going out of focus and he could feel the blood drain from his face, leaving a cold sweat prickling all over his body as the winter air brushed against his skin, cooling it.

Knees shaking, he tightened his grip on Aya, he couldn't fail her. He would _protect_ her.

Taking another step, Kenshin felt his foot slip under him on an ice patch. Unable to catch his balance, he fell forwards, letting go of Aya and throwing his arms forward to keep them from hitting the ground.

Even with his arms out, they couldn't hold him up and he slumped to the ground, the black spots returning and blowing up in his vision. This time they didn't stop growing, and everything was consumed by the dark.

* * *

"Kenshin? Kenshin, please wake up. Please! Kenshin!"

Kenshin was lying on his back, on something solid and hard. He could hear sobbing and he tried opening his eyes but they refused to obey.

But he could hear a girl crying. Someone had a hold of his shoulder, shaking it.

"Wake _up_, Kenshin! You can't die! Please don't _die_!"

_Aya?_

Willing his eyes to open, he peered out, looking up at a figure that was leaning over him. His instincts told him to lash out and roll away, but his body wouldn't move.

There was a gasp, "K-Kenshin?"

Opening his eyes wider he stared up at those big brown eyes filled with tears. A big smile broke out on the girl's face and she laughed, "Kenshin! You're awake!"

Slowly, Kenshin's body was starting to wake up, his fingers had gone numb and he started shivering immediately. Breathing out roughly he forced himself to sit up. He noticed his haori had been covering his upper body, like a blanket, as it fell into his lap.

Looking around it was very dark, wherever they were, and there was a wooden floor beneath him.

"Aya? W...where are we?" He rasped, glancing around his surroundings, trying to figure out where they were before his eyes could adjust to the darkness.

"It's an old shrine. It was right off the path where you fell." She said, shivering as she was knelt down next to him. "I dragged you in here."

Turning to look at her quickly, Kenshin stared at the girl in shock. _'How could a child drag me so far?'_

"How did you manage to do that?" He asked.

"It took me a long time, but I rolled you onto your coat and dragged you on it. It's ripped now. I'm really sorry, Kenshin. I just didn't want you to die."

The tears were coming again and before Kenshin could stop himself he reached out, patting the girl on the head, "Don't cry. You saved me."

Smiling up at him through her tears, Kenshin looked once again at the room they were in. It was quite small and dark, but his eyes had grown accustomed now and he could make out the edges of the room.

_I couldn't have been out for more than a few hours. It's still night._

"Kenshin, are we going to die?" Aya suddenly asked. Kenshin glanced at her. For such a small, young girl, she was being awfully straightforward. And her courage was admirable. Most young children would've sat and cried, yet she was inventive enough to think of using Kenshin's haori as a sled and dragged him. It must have taken her hours.

"I won't let you die, Aya. Even if it takes my life I will make sure I get you home." He murmured, picking up his coat and wrapping it around her shoulders. "I think it is best that we wait until morning."

Standing up he walked over to the wall across from him and sat down in front of it, leaning against it. He ignored Aya's concerned stare as he situated his sakabatou to lean against his shoulder.

"Oh wait!" Aya exclaimed. She started digging in the front of her kimono and pulled out a small cluster of leaves. "Your stomach has been growling since I dragged you in here. You need to eat. "

Kenshin grabbed his stomach as it heaved violently. Being reminded of the hunger it was reawakened so strong that he felt sick. She unwrapped the bamboo leaves and there was a small rice ball.

"My Mom made it for my dinner today, but I forgot all about it when I got lost." She held out the rice ball and Kenshin shook his head.

"No, you should eat it."

"But I've already eaten today, you should eat it-" Aya went over to him and held out the riceball, "You need your energy to help me get home more than I need it."

Kenshin stared at the girl for a moment, several thoughts flitting through his mind. Distrust was engraved into his nature at a young age and he couldn't help but wonder why was she being so insistent.

"No," He said again, this time much more callously.

Glaring at him for a moment, Aya sized him up. When he thought she was going to continue arguing with him she decided to place the rice ball onto the floor next to his hip. Making sure there were a few leaves under it, Aya walked off to the other side of the room and laid down on the floor. With a loud, displeased huff she covered herself entirely in his haori.

Kenshin felt woozy as he tried interpreting what this girl was doing. Why was she so angry? Most people would be happy to keep their food for themselves. And why did she choose to sleep on the other side of the room when before she couldn't help but cling to him on the path while they were walking?

Kenshin had heard about how children have these so called "_tantrums"_, as the fathers who fought in the Ishin shishi called them. They always talked about their children with each other. It almost seemed like a bond the fathers had, something that separated them from the others who had no children.

Kenshin had first hand witnessed children throwing these fits out on the streets in the market when they wanted something, yet their parent had told them no. Was this what Aya was doing? Being angry because he told her no?

Furrowing his brow he stared down at the rice ball beside him. This was hardly the time and place for a childish tantrum. She was becoming sick, and she was much too thin to be worrying about Kenshin's health.

Leaning his head back against the wall, he waited for morning to come.

* * *

When Aya woke up she listened as the previous dead quiet gave away to someone's soft rhythmic breathing. She turned around and saw the strange man's shoulders lightly rising and falling as his head hung. He was asleep.

Aya wondered vaguely why he was sleeping like that when she spotted that her rice ball was gone. Pulling the Kenshin's coat up to her face, she hid a grin. She got him to eat it! A small victory to others, but in her eyes it was a big one.

Looking over at the sliding doors of the shrine, she could see a bare light filtering through the windows. Sitting up, she slid on her shoes that had slipped off during the night back on and stood up, tightly wrapping the haori around her.

"Kenshin! Wake up, it's morning!" She shouted, running over to the doors and sliding one open. Peering out she could see the forest clearly and a fresh snow had fallen during the night. It was a bit chilly, but not entirely freezing.

Looking over her shoulder she realized Kenshin still wasn't awake.

"Kenshin?"

Walking over to him she cautiously ducked her head and looked at his down-turned face. She knew from the previous night he was pretty jumpy, probably even more when asleep, so she wasn't going to get too close. But when she got a good look at his face behind his long bangs, she saw that it looked pained and beaded with sweat.

Becoming worried, she reached out and grabbed his shoulder, "Kenshin? What's wrong?"

The second her hand grabbed onto his shoulder she felt the heat coming from his skin, and she shook him again. His sword fell with a loud clatter.

Pulling her hand away she blanched at the sight of blood on her hand. The sleeve of his shoulder was bloody from where she grabbed him.

"Kenshin!"

Quickly, she grabbed his kimono and yanked down the shoulder, gasping at the bloody bandages wrapped around his arm. Without thinking she unwrapped them and almost got sick at the sight. It wasn't a deep wound, but a cut had marred his flesh straight across his upper arm. It wasn't bleeding badly but his skin was a bright red and it appeared some other stuff was seeping from his arm. Some sort of yellow ooze.

'_This is bad_,' she thought. '_He's burning up. Just like Koji.'_

Koji was Aya's little brother. He was killed from the fever he got from a bad cut he got from falling on some rocks.

Grabbing both of his shoulders, Aya dragged Kenshin from the wall and into a laying position on the floor. Gently, she took the rest of his arm from his kimono sleeve, gritting her teeth at the sight of the blood and pus. Kenshin looked far too pale and his breathing became much more labored.

'_I need help. I've never taken care of something like this.' _Aya felt panicked. She watched her Mom clean people's wounds and take care of the sick. She did it without being scared and getting sick, like Aya was.

Steeling herself, Aya started searching the pocket sleeves of Kenshin's kimono. When she found his wallet she stuffed it into her own kimono. Glad he had some sort of money on him so she could go get help she took his haori off her own shoulders she laid it across him, like she did the night before.

"I'll be back, Kenshin. Just hold on," She said, tucking the edge of the coat lightly under his wounded arm.

Sliding the door shut behind her she ran for the trail and didn't stop running.

* * *

Kenshin could feel his mind sliding in and out of consciousness as he stared up at a ceiling. White spots appeared like specks and grew and faded in his vision. He could feel his shoulder aching as his body burned. The wound he got from that assassin's sword was inflamed.

To think he allowed a mere cut get so badly infected was shameful. His knowledge in treating sword inflicted wounds and broken bones was adept enough to avoid such a horrible infection.

Then again he always had the equipment, rest, and food he needed.

Closing his eyes he took a deep breath. Aya had left, his money was missing. He would've thought she left him for dead if it weren't for the haori covering his body.

His only hope right now was that she had gone for help.

* * *

Aya kept running. She was gasping for breath and the cold air stung her lungs. She didn't know how far the village was, but she couldn't stop running, no matter how tired she was.

The tears were already falling and she cursed herself for being such a baby. She couldn't _cry_, not now. First she had to save Kenshin.

Not knowing how long she had run, Aya began slowing down. She still hadn't reached a village and she could barely breathe. Collapsing onto her knees she started heaving in great breaths, still crying. How could she save Kenshin when she couldn't even find anyone for help?

Pulling Kenshin's wallet out of her kimono she looked at it and started crying harder. Kenshin was going to die because she was too incompetent and small to get any help. If she were bigger and stronger she'd be able to run all of the way to the village and get the medicine Kenshin needed.

Letting out a sob she clutched the wallet harder and hit her leg with her fist in frustration.

"My, what is a little girl like you doing out this far from the village?"

Jumping, Aya looked around, staring wide-eyed through her tears at a older man standing behind her. Seeing his robes she instantly recognized him as a monk.

"Monk!" She shouted, getting back onto her feet and running up to him. She shoved the wallet into his hands.

Looking perplexed at the wallet, he started questioning her but she cut across him, "I need your help! Kenshin's _dying_ and I need you to help him. You can have all the money, just please save him!"

Unable to hold back the sobs anymore she grabbed onto his arm and started pulling him the other way, towards the direction of the old shrine.

* * *

When Kenshin woke he wasn't sure where he was anymore. Nightmares of the battles he fought in had plagued his mind. Dozens of dead bodies paved the battle field. Blood filled his senses and it had become second nature having it on him, smelling it, seeing it.

Red and white.

The pure white snow before the battle was now tinted with gray and black. Blood splashed and soaked nearly every last flake of snow.

Red on white was all he could see.

Each person you kill, you lose a bit of yourself. A bit of your soul is taken to the afterlife with them. It's the price he had to pay to help create this new world.

Sometimes he wondered if it was worth it in the end. Was saving people by killing others really worth it if it meant losing yourself in the end? Often in battle he had lost his sight. His hopes for a new world. Man would continue destroying the other. No matter how many battles he helped end they would always continue. They would keep using the skills of Kenshin's sword and continue using him as their pawn.

They abused a boy's power and used it for their own personal gains. For years.

But every time Kenshin wanted to stop the fighting, just stop, he remembered his vow. The Shogunate had used Tomoe against him. The first person who wanted him as Kenshin. Not Battousai. Not a powerful swordsman who could defeat their enemies for them.

"Are you sure it's not him?"

Kenshin flinched at the sound of an unrecognizable voice. Someone made a hushing noise and a door slid closed.

"Does not matter if it is. Master Hiroki has taken him in and we're not to question it."

Kenshin sat straight up, everything was blurry and the blood rushed to his head as he tried to take in his surroundings. A girl screamed and there was the sound of shattering glass.

Scooting backwards he kicked off the covers on him and fumbled on the ground for his katana. It must've fallen over while he slept. Now he was being ambushed. Someone sent an assassin to his inn room and they were finally going to get him while he was defenseless.

Chaos ensued around him as someone ran out of the room, a woman screaming someone's name. All he could hear was a loud ringing noise and everything was red.

Someone grabbed him by the shoulders and he whipped around, lashing out while he turned. His arm was caught and pulled up behind his back as he was slammed face first into the ground. His shoulder ached painfully as his arm was twisted, keeping him pinned to the floor.

Ignoring the pain, Kenshin let out an angry yell as he pushed off the ground with his free arm and threw his head back. His head collided with someone's face, presumably their nose, and he was released with a painful cry.

"Kenshin, stop it!"

Kenshin's vision started clearing as he backed up against a wall, his breathing ragged. There were a few people standing around the room, staring at him in shock. One was who he assumed tried pinning him to the floor, since he was gripping a heavily bleeding nose. Then there were two young women, standing in the door way, looking terrified.

Then there was Aya.

She ran up to him, one of the women called for her, telling her to get away from him. But Aya ignored them and grabbed Kenshin's hand. He flinched but kept his eyes locked onto the others. Even in the chaos of his mind he knew Aya wasn't a threat.

"Kenshin, it's okay! These people saved you! It was Mr. Hiroki that brought you back here," Aya chirped, beaming up at him.

Feeling shaky, Kenshin sat down, biting back the heaves as his face broke out into a cold sweat. Aya kept a hold of him, switching from his hand to his arm, the uninjured one.

"Are you okay, Kenshin?"

Trying to focus on not throwing up, Kenshin nodded, facing the ground. He wished the room was colder. It was too hot. He felt far too hot.

"I see that you are feeling much better!" Came a cheery voice. Kenshin glanced up at the doorway, noticing a short man, dressed in bright yellow monk's robes with a purple sash. He had thin, short hair that was a light brown and he wasn't overweight like most old monks Kenshin had seen. But he had to be in his late 50's. The slight laughing lines on his face told that much.

Walking over to him, he reached down and grabbed Kenshin's other arm, "Let's get you back in bed, hmm? You can't be challenging everyone to a fight just yet."

"I wasn't _challenging _anyone. Where's my Sakabatou?" Kenshin snapped, yanking his arm away from the monk and wincing in pain as he realized it was still sore from injury.

"Oh, that strange katana you had when I found you in the old shrine? That will be down stairs. _But_ you're much too ill to be swinging it around just yet, up you get."

This time the monk grabbed his arm and before Kenshin could resist, he yanked him up off the floor and onto his feet with surprising strength. Leading him back to the other side of the room, the monk forced him to sit back down on the futon. Pushing Kenshin on the chest, he made him lie down. Kenshin was feeling too light headed at this point to resist anymore.

"You had yourself in an awful mess, that you did. You're lucky this young lady brought me to you."

"How long have I...been out?" Kenshin asked, looking at no one but the ceiling. He heard people leaving the room and could see them in the corners of his eyes. Aya walked over to his side and sat down next to the monk, looking pleased with herself.

"Three days. You've been having awful fits while you were unconscious. You gave the shrine keepers quite the scare."

"I apologize," Kenshin said blankly as he sat up again, pushing the man's hand away, "I must go."

"Go? Well, if you insist, I cannot force you to stay. But please," The man motioned to someone in the doorway, "Take this last bit of medicine. It will help with the infection."

Looking over, Kenshin met eyes with one of the women from earlier. She walked over to them and handed Kenshin a small cup.

If the monk or any of these shrine keepers had wanted him dead Kenshin was sure that he wouldn't have woken up after three days of their care.

Taking the cup Kenshin downed the medicine in one swig and handed back the cup. The woman regarded him with a cold expression, but he ignored it as he stood back up and walked away from them, searching for his other clothing.

"Where are my clothes?" He asked, still feeling lightheaded.

"Oh, allow Haru to get them for you. I had them all washed." Hiroku said, smiling and nodding towards the woman who gave Kenshin the medicine.

Bowing, she left the room without another word.

"Do forgive her, she's rather untrusting of strange men and you certainly are the strangest stray I've taken in."

Ignoring him, Kenshin stood up and started walking over to the doorway. Before he could even think of what he was going to do after he left this place his knees started giving out on him. For a moment he thought it was the illness and fatigue, but this wasn't like before. This strange warmth spread through his body as he was forced to give in and fall onto all fours, struggling to keep his eyes open.

This wasn't the first time Kenshin experienced this sensation.

"You...you _drugged_... me..." Kenshin's mouth wasn't obeying him as he rested his forehead against the floor, trying with all his might to fight the darkness caving in on his head.

"Ah, I did. But if you were in any condition to leave, you would be able to walk out of here with a mere case of the yawns," The monk said, standing up and walking over to where Kenshin was. "Going by your reaction to that small dosage of a simple sleeping herb, I can't let you leave, that I cannot."

Pushing up off of the floor, Kenshin shook his head as he staggered, reaching out for the wall next to the door for support. He couldn't give into a mere sleeping drug.

"Get me...my..._clothes_." Kenshin growled, leaning against the wall. He glared out from behind his bangs at the colorful monk.

Aya, whom Kenshin had forgotten about, appeared from behind the monk and ran up to Kenshin.

"Kenshin, these people helped us. We should at least listen to them in return for their kindness!" She said as she looked up at Kenshin scoldingly.

"I...didn't _ask_ for help. Leave me alone!"

Ignoring his angry words, Aya walked up to Kenshin and took hold of his hand once again.

"You don't really want to be alone, Kenshin, do you?" She asked, pulling his hand lightly.

Kenshin's eyes widened as he looked down at the little girl. _Her eyes. _

She didn't have that look in her eyes like he saw in most. Either it be hate or fear or calculating on how to use him best.

They were always looks intended for the Battousai.

But this girl. This little girl looked at Kenshin and saw _Kenshin_. Someone she had just met and yet cared about deeply. There was no ulterior motive, just that she wanted Kenshin to be okay, because he was kind to her.

All was in the innocence of a child.

Gripping Aya's hand, Kenshin pushed himself off of the wall and followed her back over to the futon. He stopped in front of the monk.

"I will stay if it is no burden upon you," Kenshin said, bowing his head lightly in apology.

"Not at all!" Hiroki exclaimed, throw his hands up in a welcoming gesture. "Now why don't you lie down and sleep some more? Dinner should be in a few hours. I'm cooking tonight."

Kenshin sat on the futon as the monk left, but refused to lie down. Sleeping lying down was foreign to him and he always had to be ready. He leaned against the wall and felt a little bare without a sword of some sort laying against his shoulder.

Aya laid down at the foot of futon and curled up so she was facing him.

"Why don't you like sleeping lying down?"

Not looking at her he crossed his arms, trying to ignore the missing presence of his sakabatou, "I prefer to sleep sitting up."

Without another word, Aya closed her eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

As it turned out, Kenshin learned that the next village was a few more hours away. Hiroki turned out to be a wandering monk and was well known and liked by the surrounding villages. They were currently staying at the shrine keeper's quarters, of a much nicer shrine then the small, older one in the forest that had been abandoned years ago.

Hiroki and Aya convinced Kenshin that it would be wise to stay a few more days, until the last of his fever was gone and his strength came back.

Kenshin wasn't so sure about this monk.


End file.
